3 Light
by Kittygurl1111
Summary: Light for 100 TC. Gregory's bored and who better to annoy for entertainment than Christophe?


_Tres ;; Lux_

Theme Three; Light

One hundred theme challenge.

Disclaimer: The Characters of South Park do not belong to me.

GregoryxChristophe "The Mole"

~Lux, et tum obscurus~

[~Light, and then dark~]

I don't like to spend much time at home when I could be spending it with Christophe. I don't think my family minds that either. Maybe Amberlynn is bothered by it; she does constantly text my cell phone. I know my father is too busy to worry about it and my mother probably wishes I was dead. I hate her; I wish she was dead too but for some reason, I don't at the same time. I know she hates me but I just can't bring myself to wish harm upon her. I keep hoping one of these days she'll just stop hating me randomly, I know it won't happen but I keep trying to impress her. I'm never good enough to be her son.

I hate the fact that I'm constantly wishing she'd just accept me. I hate that I care what she thinks when I could care less what anyone else thinks. I guess it's because she's my mother and most children try to make their parents happy. Not to sound egotistical but I'm not even like most others my age. To clear up a rather annoying fallacy; I'm not egotistical, I just have high self-esteem. My mother used to be god in my eyes. I never saw my dad much when I was younger because he was always at work trying to pile up more money on the money we had. I quickly lost that view when I suddenly became the worst son anyone could imagine to have. Even though Christophe's mother seemed to wish her son was more like me. Speaking of Christophe…

"How you get your entertainment out of digging will always be unknown to me," I muttered as I stared up ahead into the sun, moronic probably but I was hoping I might be able to burn my boredom away. The only response I got from the other male was a pile of dirt landing suspiciously close to me. "You get horribly mucky, I can't even begin to guess how many bugs and parasites are in that dirt and, ew, earthworms, it's gross," I complained some more trying to get a reaction out of him but it was all in vain.

I have this habit of when I am bored I harass or manipulate people into entertaining me. I usually always get away with it because I have the social abilities to get myself out of trouble. The only two people it doesn't work on are Christophe and Amberlynn. Neither of them let me get away with harassing them and will call me out on it. I think Christophe's the reason Amber doesn't let me get away with it. He has warped her fragile, innocent little mind beyond my ability to fix. Though, he's not all a bad influence, I guess and I would be a hypocrite to try to stop it. The French man has influenced me so much over the years.

I think I influenced him a bit over the years too; he seems to have adopted a few more morals than he used to have. I honestly couldn't tell you if he's changed me enough for it to be obvious. I guess it's really not fair to try to observe your changes because it's you who rationalizes them. I can't really be bothered to think about it much more because my neck hurt too much to ignore and I was too bored to keep up a debate in my thoughts.

With a grumble I brought my attention back up to the sun. "It's too bright out here," It was a valid argument if you didn't note the fact that I was the one lying on my back and staring at the sun. I shot a glare at the hole next to me as if the male inside it could see me and then went back to staring straight up; this time not at the sun though, that can actually do some damage to your eyesight and that's exactly what I didn't want. "Guh, I'm bored and you are horrid at being entertaining," I continued to complain at him but this time was answered with a pile of dirt being flung at me and a quiet chuckle.

"Christophe DeLorne!" I screeched, probably sounding exactly like our mothers. I brushed the dirt that had landed on me off with a face of utter disgust but quickly that face turned to one of amusement as I pushed a pile of dirt back into the hole he was digging.

"Beetch," Christophe all but growled and flung another pile of dirt out of the hole that nearly landed on me.

"No, you're the one being unpleasant; I'm bored, it's too bright out here and I'm out of cigarettes," I protested but didn't wait for a reply, "I think I was right about comparing you to a worm!" I was about to get up and retreat to the clubhouse when I felt a strong grip on my ankle. Shit.


End file.
